WBY Liar, Liar Pants on Fire
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: John, Sam, Dean, Jamie & River Winchester. River forgets a project at school, lies about it and gains an unlikely accomplice. Parental spanking - please don't read if that offends. PG 13 for language.


Title: WBY Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Characters: Dean, John, Sam, Jamie and River Winchester (OC)(AU)

Genre: Gen, PG 13

Summary: River forgets a project at school and nothing gets past the Winchester men.

"Whatcha doin', kiddo?" Uncle Dean tapped on the door jam of my room. Well, I should say "our room" because I share it with my cousin, Jamie. But Jamie wasn't here; he was doing the football bonding experience he liked to call practice. Sometimes I waited around for him after school, but watching Jamie Winchester give and receive poundings from other kids, while sometimes entertaining, wasn't really my idea of a wonderful afternoon. So today, I'd opted to take home the bus and chill in the relative quiet of my room sans Jamie.

I looked at my uncle warily. Unless Jamie was here, he didn't really come up to my room all that often. Not that he was anti social or anything but he and I had little in common. He liked hard rock, I liked indy singer songwriters. He liked Uncle Adam's chocolate chip pancakes, they made me want to hurl. He also had an unnatural attachment to the Impala, which I had to give him was a sweet ride but I preferred Adam's Harley. My Uncle Dean was a pretty cool guy but we just didn't agree on a lot of stuff. Truthfully, I don't agree with a lot of stuff that all the Winchesters appear to agree with– on a regular basis, but I'm learning to deal.

"Reading," I said and then I held up my book just to prove a point.

"School related?" He asked again. And now I was really starting to worry.

"Uh, no…why?"

"I just thought that, you know, if you had to do school work, this might be a good time to get it done."

I quirked an eye at him and he gave me a slightly non-committed look that I couldn't figure out.

"Do we have a designated homework time in this house now?" I asked and I'll admit, I sounded a little grumpy. I love to read and didn't often get the chance with Jamie bouncing his balls around, jamming to his music and making a nuisance of himself.

He looked thoughtfully at me. "Nooo. But again, it would be good to get any forgotten school work done sooner rather than later, you know, before your dad comes back from the hunt with Gramps."

"Uncle Dean – if you could just be a little clearer." I stood up from my bed and dropped my book on the nightstand a little roughly. All of this beating around the bush was exasperating. Winchesters were typically a little more direct than this.

My uncle cleared his throat and held out a letter in a sealed envelope obviously from my school and addressed to my dad.

"Look, Riv, is there anything you want to tell me? If so…now would be a good time."

I thought frantically about what could or could not be in the envelope. My feeling was that it was probably not an attaboy. Uncle Dean seemed to think so as well, "I have received a few of these in my lifetime and in my experience, they are never good. I don't know what's in it and it's addressed to Sam, so I'm not gonna know but if you have any idea what it might be, it would be in your best interest to figure it out before they come home."

"Uncle Dean," I think my voice cracked. It could be because I was fourteen, it could be the thought of my dad seeing what was in that envelope. "You can't do something like this."

"Like what?" Dean asked, waffling between amused and sanctimonious.

"Showing me an unopened envelope from school and expecting me to know what it's about."

"Have you fucked up so many things that it could be anything?"

"Well, no…I don't think so but really…I mean REALLY?"

Uncle Dean seemed to consider me carefully. "Well, there is a tried and true method to see what is in this envelope but I think it's strictly forbidden for me to do it. I mean, I'm the adult in this equation, I have to show self-discipline and guidance. "

"So guide me!" I almost yelled that part because the thought of my dad's big Sasquatch hand on my ass was not something I wanted any part of. Then I kind of lost my mind and began pleading. Okay, I'll admit it, it was closer to begging.

"Please, Uncle Dean. The only way I'm gonna know how to fix what I need to fix is to find out what that is in that envelope. Think of it this way. Your intervention will actually be helping me be more responsible. I will be able to figure out what I need to do. Fix it and eliminate my dad from getting upset. You know he's gonna get upset, it's a school thing. You know my dad and school. He will pinch his nose and breathe all funny and look like he's having a heart attack and then he's gonna beat my ass. Which I guess you don't care about but I do! And then Gramps? What about Gramps? He's getting old and while Dad might not have a heart attack, what if Gramps does?"

Uncle Dean looked at me with one brow arched, "Y'know kid, this ain't my first rodeo. Also, this taking out Gramps?" Uncle Dean waved the envelope around, "Not likely. He's been through Sam, Jamie and of course me. And while Sam almost never got one these, I on the other hand, was the king of parent teacher communication."

I managed to gather up what was left of my pride, "Which is why it is so important for you to teach the next generation all of your skills. Let's face it, I certainly can't look up to my Dad for this one."

Uncle Dean snorted then. "You know how to work a room, kid, I'll give you that."

"So, will you help me?"

"Yeah, I guess. But you gotta keep this between us. I mean, if you get caught, you take the blame. I'm not gonna have Dad and Sam going all-parental on my old ass and although Sam might not be able to, Dad very well could. I've managed to avoid an honest to good butt whipping in years and I plan on keeping it that way."

I laughed at the thought of my grown up uncle getting his ass handed to him by Gramps. It was ludicrous really, but Uncle Dean seemed to think it really could happen and although it might be fun to watch, honestly, I was more concerned with my own butt. "Okay, my lips are sealed."

"It's funny you should use that terminology." Uncle Dean crooked a finger in my direction and I followed him down the steps.

"First thing's first." Uncle Dean grabbed the teapot off the stove and filled it with water.

"Ahem… Uncle Dean, while I appreciate the shout out to my personal preferences of tea versus coffee, I don't really think this is the time to relax with a cup of Earl Grey."

Uncle Dean just grinned and set the full pot on the stove and turned it on high.

"Just watch, young grasshopper and learn from the professionals."

I shook my head; obviously Uncle Dean had lost his marbles sometime today. He had been coherent this morning but apparently, reliving his glory days as a teenage rebel rouser had done something to his neurons.

Uncle Dean settled at the kitchen table easily and dropped the envelope with a flourish in the middle of said table.

"Uh, Uncle Dean? Not to burst your bubble or anything, but Gramps and my Dad are due home like sometime tomorrow night. If I don't find out what I need to do today, I can't get it done today and therefore I can't turn it in tomorrow and hopefully eliminate this issue once and for all."

"Ah, ye of little faith." My uncle settled back in the kitchen chair, tipping it on two legs, something that never failed to make Gramps nuts every time he did it. Which is probably why he never did it when Gramps was around.

Because my uncle was obviously insane and there was nothing I could do about it, I settled next to him to wait for my tea. I figured maybe the tea would calm me down. I should probably try chamomile instead of Earl Grey, I needed the Zen-like properties of chamomile instead of pick-me-up a caffeinated tea offered.

The tea pot whistled and Uncle Dean got up, grabbed the envelope and headed to the tea pot with what best could be described as a purposeful stride.

"The first thing you have to know, is don't be too eager, let the steam gently loosen the glue."

Uncle Dean held the envelope over the teapot and carefully allowed the steam to rise up and encircle the sealed envelope. It was like watching a master magician – Uncle Dean was that good. He twirled the envelope over the steam one more time and voila, even from where I sat I could see the glue loosening.

It was magical. Truly magical.

The steam swirled around and the glue loosened some more. Uncle Dean waved the envelope over the teapot's steam almost like a witch over a cauldron.

"Now this is the tricky part."

Dean carefully put the envelope on the table. It wasn't soggy at all; just a bit moist and he pulled out his knife and ever so gently slid the knife between the sealed envelope and the glue.

My uncle was a god – he must be - because the envelope opened and he carefully pulled out the paper and handed it to me.

I grinned at the wonder that was my Uncle Dean. Halleluiah. Praise be to Dean Winchester, god of teenage fuck ups.

I read the note and the letter was indeed about a missed assignment. A history report. I didn't remember not doing it but school wasn't my top priority. I had been home schooled, if you could call it that, and really I just thought of school as a place to meet other kids. Still, it was my Dad's top priority and that automatically made it something I needed to be more in tune with. I could feel the blush crawl up my neck and cheeks as I thought of what my dad was gonna do to me. It wasn't so much embarrassing because I was in for it, more that I was stupid enough to get in this predicament.

"Now what?" I turned to Uncle Dean.

"We put it back in, seal it up and give it to Sam tomorrow. You may still get in trouble but you can honestly tell him you've done the report and turned it in," Uncle Dean then gave me the Winchester look of _I mean busin_ess. "Because you will do the report tonight and you will turn it in tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

"And I better see effort in it, like A + writing and researching so get you ass in gear."

"Yes, sir." I replied and I did all but salute. In my short time with the Winchesters, I found that acknowledging with a yes, sir or a no, sir often resulted in a better outcome than not.

He swatted me then, hard enough to almost bring a tear to my eye. I'd never admit that but it was the truth, Uncle Dean had a mean swing. I took it as hands on encouragement to get to work so I galloped up the steps but not before I saw my uncle carefully folding up the letter and resealing it in the envelope.

I hoped upon hope that I was able to get this damn paper done tonight.

I was really pretty mad at myself. I loved to read and even loved reading about history. I was kind of a history buff. Which made me a geek but whatever. But I had a lot riding on this paper so I worked all night on it like a man possessed. Jamie came back from practice to find me on the computer and typing like crazy.

"What are you doin, Riv?"

"That assignment from Mr. McHenry."

"That was due last week – remember?"

"Well, I forgot, but now I remembered. Just shut up and let me work."

"That was a big ass project River, how can you get it all done tonight?"

"Well, it would be a lot easier if my dumb cousin would shut the hell up so I could work.

Jamie snorted, "Well, since when do you care so much?"

"Since I don't wanna fail this course, so again, keep your yap shut and let me do what I got to do."

Jamie shrugged good-naturedly and then flipped me the bird.

"Duly, noted." I said and continued to type.

XXX

I turned in the paper to McHenry that day. He scowled at me, "Well, Mr. Winchester, it appears my note home made some impression."

I positively beamed. "Note home, sir? I didn't know…my Dad's been out of town for almost a week, I'm sure it's in his unopened mail. I just plain forgot to turn it in and I found it on my hard drive last night. I'm sorry for the lateness."

He grumbled then. "Well, I'll have to drop a letter grade Mr. Winchester, the rest of the class managed to get it in on time."

"I understand, sir. I'm really sorry."

Jamie sat next to me in History class so he heard the whole exchange. He hissed to me when I sat down next to him.

"What was that all about?"

"What do you mean?" I whispered back.

"You were doing that paper all fucking night – it wasn't on your hard drive!"

"So, I embellished a bit. What do you care."?

Jamie glared at me then. "Dude, I don't care at all but you are lying. You didn't do that damn paper and I know you didn't because I did. I got a B on it and I worked my ass off for a week on it. McHenry is one of the toughest graders we got in this damn school and history is hard as shit for me. You stay up one night and slide in with a paper and only lose one letter grade on it?"

I don't know why Jamie was so irritated. Jamie was normally a straight A student, the head honcho on the football team and did everything perfect scholastic wise. I, on the other hand, did nothing right. So if I managed to pull this off and not fail? Well, you'd think he'd be happy for me. I figured if he found out his dad was the one who helped me well, I think he'd shit a brick.

I ignored him and opened my history book.

Jamie would have to get over it.

XXX

Dad was waiting for me when we got home. Both of us, because it was Friday and Jamie didn't have practice on Friday nights. I could tell he was pissed from the moment I saw him and obviously Jamie could tell too. But Jamie didn't know what I knew and he wasn't quite sure where the glare was being directed, at him or me.

"What did I do?" Jamie said when he saw my dad's face when he walked into the kitchen.

"You're safe this time."

Jamie sighed audibly and grabbed an apple out of the basket on the table, then glanced at me.

"Sorry, Cuz." He slung his book bag over his back and trudged up the stairs leaving me to deal with my dad.

"What did I do then?" I asked as innocently as possible.

"I don' t know, is there anything you want to tell me?" Dad asked a little grimly.

I almost smiled then because that was exactly what his brother had said yesterday. My dad seeing that near smile almost caused the death of me though. "What is so damn funny, River?" Dad kind of growled at me all Winchester pissed and ready to kick my ass on principle alone.

I shook my head for emphasis, "Nothing, really. Just thinkin's all. I'm trying to figure out why you might be mad at me." I stuttered a little at that because I knew damn well why he was mad at me. "I'm just not sure what it is."

My seeming inability to come up with anything worthwhile seemed to irritate my dad even more so he jumped to the chase.

"Do you know anything about this?" Dad was waving the letter in front of me with that furious Sam expression on his face. If you'd ever seen my Dad pissed you would know. It's melodramatic and angry at the same time. And it something you really don't want aimed in your direction.

"Know what?"

"This!" He dropped the letter in front of me and I opened it tentatively. Dad had opened it with a letter opener (that was so my dad) and I pulled out the letter with apparent trepidation.

I quickly scanned the letter and allowed the horror to come over my face. I really should have gotten an academy award.

"I turned this in, Dad. I swear!" It was easy to say because it was the truth. "I turned it in late, but honest, Mr. McHenry has it."

That seemed to take all the bluster out of my dad's sails. It was as if this wasn't how he anticipated the conversation would go.

"I…I…You." He pointed at me and looked a little red. I thought maybe he was going to have a heart attack over me turning in the paper instead of not turning it in. Then he took a deep breath and raked his hand across his floppy hair, "You damn well better be telling the truth River Winchester, so help me…"

He let the threat linger and I knew it was a real threat but I also knew I was safe.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I forgot all about it, but really I did turn it in. It was sitting on in my hard drive and I just printed it out and gave it to him. He said he would have to knock me down a letter grade but I'm thankful he let me turn it in. I'm really sorry, Dad. Do you want to see the paper?"

"No. It's fine, I believe you." My dad sounded kind of happy and a little chagrined at having doubted me in the first place. I'll admit I felt a little bad about that, but then I thought about the alternative and got over it pretty quickly, "But son, please know that turning in a large project like this late is really unacceptable. Your overall grade could be lowered and you obviously turned it in so late that Mr. McHenry felt that he needed to send a letter home. This better not happen again. And you better hope to hell you did a good job on it, I mean, it River. "

"Yes, sir." I waited though, to see if there was more lecture coming or if he was gonna swat me just to drive the point home, but I guess my beating him to the punch saved _me_ from a beating because he just huffed in my general direction.

"You're grounded this weekend River. It was irresponsible for you to turn in that work late and you know how I feel about school work."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." And secretly I offered a prayer to my uncle. Not only did I get out of Big Trouble, but I managed to have the weekend to read!

I tried to look contrite, I did. But Dad must have sensed something was a little off because he gave me a look that almost scared me. My father was typically not a scary dude, Gramps on the other hand was. Still, I was learning to be a little wary of him when he got that angry look on his face. This wasn't angry really but he didn't look very pleased either.

"Are you sure you are giving me the whole story, River?"

Now, I didn't like to lie to Dad but I'd already done it, even if it was in a roundabout way but this was a direct question and I needed to directly lie to answer it. There were no shades of gray here, I was either gonna spill the beans and tell him what I did with the envelope or I was going to lie.

I lied.

"Yes, sir."

I looked my father in the face and lied like there was no tomorrow. Which I felt quite sure would be the case, if I told him the truth. It didn't feel good, I'll admit it but I didn't see how I could get caught and no matter how guilty I felt, I figured it would be better than how my butt would feel if he found out what I did.

XXX

Jamie was pissed, royally pissed. My cousin was usually a pretty low key kind of a dude – he didn't rise to the bait very often and honestly, he was a reasonable kind of guy but we stepped out of Mr. McHenry's class and he was furious.

So mad in fact that he ignored me on the way home. It was a Friday, so he had no practice which meant the bus ride home was kind of lonely, especially since we are at the end of the route which meant it was just I, Jamie and JR Banner by the time we hit the last stop. And JR was sick.

I hopped off the bus and we started the relatively long walk home.

"It's not my fault!" I tried for the fiftieth time but Jamie ignored me, instead opting to pick up a hefty stone and sling it in the general direction of the woods. I heard it hit a tree and to be truthful, it was probably exactly where Jamie was aiming. Because he is a fucking god when it comes to everything physical.

Which started to piss me off.

So I picked up the pace and Jamie did the same. Pretty soon we were almost running to the house for no reason other than we didn't want the other one to get there first.

Did I ever mention how competitive Jamie is?

He beat me to the door, which has happened before and there was the traditional sling each other around as we walked into the kitchen. We stopped then and both glanced at the chalkboard where notes are always kept.

_We are in town, should be back by dinner._

The trio didn't sign it but it obviously meant they were all in town and we were safe from prying ears and stinging hands.

"Damn it, Jamie. How can you be pissed because I got a better grade than you in the fucking history report, especially when we got _the same grade!" _

Jamie roared at me then, "Because we didn't get the same grade. You got an A which was dropped to a B because you turned it in late! So late in fact, that you got that letter from Mr. McHenry. Which, to this day, I'm not convinced you didn't know about, considering you spent all night doing the damn thing and then told him that you just found it on your hard drive. FOUND IT! Come on! I can't believe McHenry fell for that shit, but it must be those damn blue puppy dog eyes. Dad swears that Uncle Sam has them and you must have inherited at least the look if not the color. McHenry would have pinned my ass to the wall if I'd a done something like that. "

I started to protest but he went on.

"And I don't believe the shit that you've been home schooled and deprived of parental guidance and you are a confused little boy who needs hand holding. That's just bullshit. You've been in this school for six months and been living with us for almost nine. You are a manipulator and a liar and a cheater. That's right a cheater!"

I was floored. Jamie was not just my cousin, but my friend. We'd gotten into some shit before and had taken our licks for it. No one would ever say that Jamie Winchester was perfect but it seemed I'd managed to find a chink in his trouble making armor. Jamie, extreme athlete, tough competitor and junior hunter extraordinaire, and probably one of the biggest mischief-makers in town - could not stand cheating.

I suppose I got it. I did. Jamie worked hard at everything he did. He got it honest. He was probably the best football player and soccer player and he could certainly outshoot anyone on our Junior Rifle team if he wanted to. But it wasn't because he got everything handed to him. Jamie worked really, really hard for everything he got. So I could see why he was pissed. I just wasn't used to it. I mean Jamie mad at me? Well, we'd had a few quasi throw downs – they'd always ended poorly for both of us because fighting with Winchesters was fine but fighting _against _Winchesters was not. Plus the whole family knew that in a fair fight, Jamie would and could kick my ass. I suppose I should have been worried, but it appeared that our previous fights and the outcomes of said fights had made an impression on him because he just turned away and opened the refrigerator with what I imagined was _extreme prejudice._

The milk that was tottering on the edge of the fridge door fell on the floor with a huge thunk and splash and suddenly we were surrounded by a lake of 2% milk, sloshing over the floor like tsunami.

"FUCK!" Jamie was livid. He turned and spun and right then I thought maybe the rule about not cleaning my clock was null and void because I could swear I almost saw his fist go back. Instead he stopped transfixed at the doorway into the living room behind me. I could see how wide his eyes were and I knew that whatever he saw was not going to be a good thing.

For a feverish moment I prayed we were haunted by a ghost. Because there was almost nothing I could think of that would stop Jamie in his tracks like that except something like a ghost.

Or John Winchester.

XXX

Both Jamie and I gulped at the same time. Him because he saw Gramps and me because I knew he saw Gramps.

Gramps was a strange one. He cussed like a – well, like a Marine. But he didn't like us cussing. Hell, he didn't like my dad and Uncle Dean cussing. I mean, he isn't dictatorial about it, he lets a lot go and he defers to our dads. Usually. But Jamie's recent tirade was uncalled for by Gramps' standards. How much he had heard was debatable, but neither Jamie nor myself had been particularly quiet when we barged in the kitchen and Gramps had the ears of a bat.

So I had to assume he heard it all. I'm sure Jamie assumed it too. Which meant Jamie was in hot water for the language and the personal affront to the fridge, as well as the milk all over the floor and I was in trouble for everything else.

Because while my dad was kind of easy to manipulate my gramps was not.

He'd raised my dad and my Uncle Dean. He'd helped raise Jamie and was working on me. Nope. He'd heard enough to figure out what had happened and there was nothing I could do about it except wait for the inevitable hammer to fall. Or belt. Or hand. Or spoon. Or whatever he decided he was going to whip my ass with. Because I had no doubt that was going to happen. Within a split second my life turned from hunkey dorey to a downright shitfest.

Now he might not know all the ins and outs of it, but he knew damn well I'd lied to McHenry and by proxy to my dad. And he knew I'd cheated in some way, and he knew that Jamie was furious. All of those things added up to a math equation I would prefer not to have solved.

"Jamie." He said it sharp and staccato from behind me. Jamie had already stilled and was ready for the explosion. "You clean up that mess and get your ass upstairs. We'll talk later about your inability to keep a civil tongue in your head."

Jamie didn't skip a beat. "Yes, sir." He grabbed the paper towels and started on the floor.

"River." Gramps voice was even lower than when he said Jamie's name and I turned

slowly to face him.

"Yes, sir."

"Down to the barn."

Jamie shot me a quick look and my stomach rolled. Jamie, the boy who was an instant ago ready to throw me a punch was giving me a look of silent support and pity. THE BARN. GRAMPS WAS ORDERING ME TO THE BARN.

Jesus, Mary, Fred and Ethel. I was doomed. I was going to die. In the barn. Gramps was going to kill me.

I couldn't even whisper a "yes, sir" because that required the ability to speak.

Apparently I was mute.

I turned and carefully stepped over the milk that Jamie was sopping up with quiet efficiency and headed out the back door.

To the barn.

People talk about their life flashing before their eyes. I used to think it was just a saying – you know to encourage folks to think about things before they did them.

Nope, it's a true fact.

I thought about Sunshine and what a dip she was. I wouldn't miss her and she wouldn't miss me. My life with her had been transitory and nomadic. I'd hated it. I realized then how much I loved my life now. My soon to be ended life. I loved my family, my dad and my uncle. I loved Jamie and yeah, I even loved Gramps. I loved mucking the damn horse stalls and the freakin' spring fed pond. I loved old Cooper the arthritic hound dog that would follow us on our walks too and from just about anyplace.

I did notice that Cooper was sitting on the back porch watching me go. Apparently, Cooper had no inclination to follow me to my death. Great, I didn't even deserve the devotion of a good dog.

I sighed heavily and walked into the barn. The horses were outside grazing contentedly in our back pasture. There were barn swallows zipping in and out of the rafters and a gentle breeze that moved through the barn from one side to another. The barn was kind of quiet actually.

Well, it was quiet at the moment. But I felt quite sure that would end rather soon and rather abruptly.

I was right.

Gramps met me within five minutes. He may have been chewing Jamie out some more, or directing the milk cleanup or he might have been pacing in the living room. All of those things were possible. I hoped for the later because if he was pacing in the living room he was giving himself a few minutes to calm down.

Those few minutes could mean the difference between death and near death.

I was sitting forlornly on a hay bale when he walked in but I stood up right away. Gramps appreciated shit like that. It wouldn't help but I had to try everything I could.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

That was odd. He wasn't reaching for his belt yet. And he was letting me explain. Which meant I had to come clean because he knew more than he was saying. Or he figured it out or whatever Gramps did when he uncovered shit his grandkids had done. I'd learned that he'd been known to give you a little extra rope just to watch you swing. He was sadistic for a grandfather. I yearned for a moment for one of those tottering grandfathers sitting on the front porch with their lemonade and their false teeth.

Gramps had all of his teeth and was fitter than any man his age had a right to be. He may have had some lemonade once in a while, but it was probably laced with Jack Daniels.

I stood up as straight as I could and looked him in the eye. Again, another learned Winchester tactic. Be a man. I wasn't a man though, I was a fourteen-year old boy and I was more than a little afraid of my grandfather.

Like I said. I loved him. I know he loved me but that didn't negate that he was going to blister my ass in fact, it probably was the reason he was going to blister my ass. Because that's what you did when you loved your family. You made damn sure that your kids or in this case your grandkids, knew when they did wrong. I got that. I didn't like it much but I understood.

Still, I didn't want to admit what I had done and I knew that was what he wanted. He wanted me to know, in no uncertain terms, that I knew exactly what I was getting my butt roasted for and he wanted me to know before hand.

Ah, the life of a Winchester boy.

"Gramps, I'm sorry." I did try to meet his gaze but I dropped my eyes, a sure indication that I was guilty. I knew it as well as he did.

"I'm sure you are. But for what?"

I mustered every last bit of courage I had. "I didn't turn in my history report. I found out by steaming open Dad's mail from Mr. McHenry and reading it. That was wrong Gramps. I mean, I opened Dad's mail and resealed it. That's a real federal offense right? Tampering with mail? Maybe not as bad as grave desecration but then again, if you figure one is federal and the other state, I guess tampering with the mail is worse. Then I pulled an all nighter and turned in the history report. Then I lied to Mr. McHenry about it. Then I let Dad find the letter and lied to him too. And I got in a fight with Jamie when Jamie called me on it. That's when you came in. I cheated on something I shouldn't have. I mean, not that you should cheat on anything but schoolwork? I knew Dad was going to blow a gasket and I thought I could make it up. " I stopped and glanced hopefully and Gramps, "Which I did! I did make it up and I got a great grade on it! Better than Jamie. Which is why he was so pissed but…!"

Gramps held up his hand and I stopped, "And that makes it better somehow why?"

"Because I could do the work Gramps – I just didn't and I fixed it! Before anyone found out and it saved Dad from getting upset and it proved I was smart enough to get an A on it. Mr. McHenry NEVER gives out A's so it had to be a great report right? Right?" I knew I was babbling but it couldn't be helped.

"All that proves is that you are a smart kid. Which I already knew."

That stopped me. A smart kid? Gramps thought I was smart? Okay, I knew he loved me but considered me smart? That was a new one.

"I.I…," Truthfully I was at a loss for words, "I don't know what to say, Gramps. I'm sorry and I really messed up. Now Jamie's mad at me and you are mad at me and Dad's _gonna_ be mad at me."

Gramps sighed then. "Jesus, River. Not mad. Disappointed. I expected better from you. You're a kid and kids do dumb stuff all the time but lying to our faces. And cheating and lying again. That's low, kiddo. Then you kind of rubbed it in Jamie's face, so while I'm not so happy about his language and the fact that if I hadn't walked in when I did you'd probably have a shiner to match the red ass you are going to have, well, I understand why he was pissed."

I slumped then. Disappointed. I fucking hated that word. Mad I could deal with. Disappointed? Not so much.

"This disappointed?" I gestured roughly and perhaps a little frantically at the barn. The barn was the place for loud spankings. Or for the place where an adult Winchester really wanted privacy, which I could only assume was for loud spankings.

Gramps nodded grimly.

"Are you going to take in to account that I'm the newest Winchester?"

Gramps shook his head.

"What about the fact that Dad is going to light my butt up after you?"

Again, another shake.

I was doomed.

Gramps sat down on my vacated bale of hay. "Lose it all, kiddo."

Shit, bare assed. Not that I expected anything less.

I dropped my jeans and boxers throwing myself over his lap as quickly as I could to maintain the semblance of privacy. Not that it mattered to Gramps in the least, he just positioned me in a way that presented my ass in the best light and then proceeded to blister my butt with his callused hand.

Lord almighty that man could spank. He could take your breath away from the first time his hand met your ass. He was that damn good. Or bad, depending on how you looked at it.

I have to say, surviving any Winchester spanking is a feat, surviving Gramps'? Well, that was an act of God.

Damn. Gramps was a spanking machine. He nailed both sides of my ass at once, at least it seemed that way. I suppose his hand wasn't as big as my Dad's but it felt so much harder. Maybe Gramps just had more experience? He could optimize the burn with less effort. I guess spanking Dad and Uncle Dean made him a pro. He barely seemed out of breath and I was wheezing with the effort of not crying like a baby. Not that that mattered either. I was going to cry. I always did. And it did make me feel like a baby. Sort of. But Jamie cried too when he got nailed and he was a lot tougher than me.

So Gramps spanked and I yelled. And then I cried. I suppose I was happy we were at the barn. I'm pretty sure Jamie heard me at the house but maybe he didn't. The horses did though, I looked up once to see all of them looking intently at the barn, ears pricked and listening to my yells and hollers. I had an irrational feeling to scream at them to take a picture – it would last longer, but the next time Gramps' hand hit my ass that thought flew out the window. I yelled bloody murder but no one seemed to care and even after a few moments the horses even stopped caring.

It was just Gramps, the barn swallows and me and they didn't seem to care from beginning to end. They would swoop pass once in a while but I couldn't pay much attention to barn swallows while I was getting my ass handed to me. But suddenly one did dive bomb me, we were near her nest but I hadn't thought much about that either. It was then when I started to realize Gramps hand wasn't still scorching my ass.

I did pray then. To God or anyone who was listening and I thanked Him for not letting Gramps reach for his belt. I stood up and pulled up my boxers and then I eyed up the horse trough. It would be so easy to drop my steaming ass in the cold water but I doubted it would help. I had scrubbed it that morning. It was pretty clean and if it had horse spit in it? Well maybe there was medicinal properties to horse spit? Like some folks say dog spit has. Oh God, now I was rambling in my head, not even rambling to Gramps. I was obviously a raving lunatic.

"You do realize I meant it when I said I was not going to stop Sam from tanning your ass when he gets home." Gramps' voice pulled me back to the matter at hand. Or at ass or whatever you wanted to call it.

"Yes, sir."

"In fact, if he doesn't, I'm gonna encourage him to do so. You lied to him and he believed you. If he doesn't wallop you tonight, I may do it again on principle."

"Yes, sir." There was nothing I could say other than that. I had never been spanked once and threatened with another one by the same spanker if my Dad didn't step up to the plate and blister my butt on top of spanking number one. That was a new take on Winchester discipline. Always the learning curve for me. Of course, I would be the one to obviously break a standing rule in the Winchester house. Not that it was a standing rule, but I'd never seen Gramps threaten that one yet.

Gramps pulled me into a hug. I let him. I really didn't want to hug him because I was a little angry. I had to admit though, that I was angry with myself, not with him. That made it easier to accept the hug.

"So what's next?" I asked a little shakily.

"You wait for your father to come home and you tell him what you did and what I did. Then we see what he says."

"Are you really going to try and push him to whup me?"

Gramps was still half hugging me. "What do you think?"

"I think you don't often say what you don't mean."

"You would be right about that. But why do you think I'm sticking to my guns on this?"

"I dunno, Gramps. I get you being angry and everything but I think this should be between me and my dad. I mean you just wacked the crap out of me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Not for me."

I sighed. Obviously Gramps felt that I needed an additional lesson in being truthful and honest. I would have so loved to tell him about Uncle Dean. Not because I wanted Uncle Dean in trouble, more because Gramps was so sure that his ways were so damn effective! They obviously weren't. Uncle Dean was still bucking the system! But in Dean's defense, he'd been trying to help me. Still, if Gramps was willing to see that I got two spankings for one offense then I imagine he would be less than happy when he found out his son's part in the whole kit and caboodle.

I grabbed my jeans off the ground and pulled them up over my boxers. It really didn't matter. I was on 73 acres of land with no one but Jamie and Gramps around. But it gave me a little dignity as I headed back to the house behind Gramps.

It was then that I noticed my dad and Uncle Dean were back. They had pulled the truck out front and honestly, with Gramps tanning my backside, I doubt I would have noticed if they'd come in with a parade. Uncle Dean was notably absent from the kitchen but when we walked in Dad nodded to Gramps and mentioned gruffly that Dean was talking to Jamie.

Great.

Gramps left Dad and I in the kitchen but not before he checked to make sure that Jamie had done a good job cleaning up the milk. Naturally, he had. Gramps was anal about stuff like that.

Then it was just me and Dad. Dad and me. And a whole lot of unsaid just sitting there between us. It didn't appear that Gramps had filled Dad in but Sam Winchester was no dummy. I'd just come back from the barn, eyes red from crying and walking like my ass was on fire.

Which it was.

I sniffled once and grabbed the tissue on the counter and gave a good blow. It was hard to sound adult when your nose was all snotty from crying your eyes out.

"So, I guess you are wondering what happened." I tried to be as matter of fact as I could. I was not going to lose my mind and ramble like I did for Gramps although the outcome for this was potentially more devastating than Gramps' was. This would be ass-kicking number two.

"It crossed my mind." Dad said sarcastically. Sarcasm didn't sit well with Sam Winchester…well maybe when it was directed at Uncle Dean but I didn't appreciate it one bit.

"So do you want the long drawn out version or the short, cut to the chase version?"

"Well, in my personal opinion, the long drawn out version never does anything but draw everything out. Typically, it frustrates the grown up so that when he does start the punishment he's even more upset than when he started. If that's the route you want to go down, have at it."

"When you say personal opinion are you stating it from the spankers point of view or the spankees point of view?"

"It really doesn't matter. I've been on both sides of the equation and the outcome is the same. It's never good. I mean, the spankee will feel like he might be achieving something but trust me, he's not."

I nodded. "Good to know."

Then there was quiet again. I nervously played with the pepper grinder. It was a nice one, wooden and full of pepper. I liked it.

"River. Remember when I said that the outcome wasn't going to be good…that wasn't a hypothetical or rhetorical statement. Really. Trust me on this."

I nodded again.

"Just give me a second, Dad. I mean. I'm still recovering from Gramps."

"Yeah, well, that being the case it might be just better for me to jump right in and start on your butt right away. It will eliminate any lag time and you won't have to worry about telling me anything. I will just assume the worse and wallop you accordingly."

I did not like the sound of that one. Assuming the worse was not on my agenda.

I took a deep breath and tried to speak.

"Dad, I allowed you to think that something was true, when in fact it was false. And then I reiterated it verbally in a way that verified the truth when I should have admitted the falsehood."

Dad wasn't often confused but he cocked his head in my direction, "Huh?"

"I lied, Dad. I lied to you. I told you that I accidently forgot my paper from Mr. McHenry when in fact I hadn't turned it in. Then I found out about it by going through your mail…

"My mail?" Dad looked totally shocked. "You went through my mail?"

"Well, not all of it, just the piece that came from school."

"And your selective mail thievery makes the whole situation just fine?"

I wasn't sure if it was really a question or a statement, but I figured I'd better answer it anyway, "No, Dad…it was wrong, but I couldn't help it! I had to see what was in the envelope 'cause I didn't remember not doing the report. That is stupid, I know…how can you forget a project? But I did. McHenry is boring and that is saying something 'cause I really like history. How Jamie manages to stay awake, I will never know."

"So how did you find out about the letter?"

"Well I got the mail and I saw the letter and I knew it couldn't be good news so I steamed it open…"

"DEAN!" Dad bellowed at the top of his lungs. He turned_ away _from me and barreled his way into the living room. Whatever type of talk had gone on between Jamie and my uncle was done and Uncle Dean was in the living room with Gramps. They were watching TV with the volume turned up appropriately. Probably in preparation for the blood curdling yells that were soon to be coming from me.

I gotta hand it to my uncle. Dude was the epitome of calm in the face of danger. It must be years of fighting the fugly. Or maybe just being raised by Gramps.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Samantha?" Uncle Dean lifted an eyebrow in his brother's direction but kept part of his attention on the TV.

"I can not believe you helped him!"

Now my uncle gave me a quick glance but I motioned hysterically that it wasn't me! It wasn't! I didn't rat on him! I was just being honest!

But despite my uncle's apparent unconcern in the face of his wrathful, gargantuan brother, he was obviously far better prepared than I anticipated because when Dad charged him, he moved like lightening, vaulting out of the way over the couch and somehow putting Gramps in between them.

Gramps, for his part, was watching the action play out but made no move to do anything. It was if he'd seen it before and knew where it was heading.

Dad and Uncle Sam moved together, keeping the couch and Gramps in between them. But with Dad stalking and my uncle counter stalking. Is counter stalking a real thing? I'm not sure but that is what it looked like. They were like two big cats warily testing out territory.

"Now, Sam. It's not what you think."

"Oh, it's not? So you didn't show River how to steam open letters to see what was inside before a parent could find out?"

That seemed to get Gramps' attention. He sat up a little straighter and narrowed his eyes in my uncle's direction. Maybe my uncle would have noticed if he wasn't quite so intent on watching my dad. But you know, he was being stalked by Sasquatch. He had a reason to be intent.

"What makes you think I did such a thing? Anybody could figure that out, Christ he could Google it for crying out loud."

"But he didn't did he? Because he didn't have to. Because Uncle Dean stepped in and showed him exactly how to do it. JUST LIKE YOU SHOWED ME. "

Gramps lifted both of his legs up and settled himself lengthwise on the couch just as my dad pounced. He jumped_ over _the couch in a vault type move that would have had Olympic gymnast astounded and nailed my uncle with a good portion of his body but it wasn't a full on tackle because Dean was no longer where he had been. The time it took to vault was the time it took him to move but oddly enough my dad seemed to recalculate while in the air because he still nailed him!

At least partially.

Then the shit hit the fan.

For two grown men they fought like kids. True – very well trained kids but kids. This wasn't two hunters fighting for their lives but two brothers intent on pummeling the shit out of each other while they had the chance. I think maybe my Dad was getting the upper hand but I think that was because he had righteous indignation on his side but it was by no means a one sided fight.

And it was brief.

"BOYS!"

Gramps' bellow stopped them both in their tracks. They looked over at him instantly. Uncle Dean had a dribble of blood dripping from his nose and I could see my dad's eye was already bruised. Dad was in mid punch but he held it arm cocked back with no follow through, his other arm firmly gripped on my uncle's shirt. His muscles were like corded iron and I have no doubt if that punch connected, it was going to be painful. It was like someone pushed pause in the middle of a fight scene.

That someone was Gramps.

Sometime during the mêlée, Jamie had materialized at the foot of the stairs and was staring wide eyed at the carnage.

"Holy shit." Jamie said and that pretty much summed it up.

"Stand down." Gramps said. He wasn't yelling. He didn't have to, you could've heard a pin drop.

I realized then that Gramps had even managed to mute the TV before stepping in to the fray. He was that good.

Dad dropped Uncle Dean and relaxed his arm. Whatever move my uncle was planning to do with my father disappeared and they both stood at what I could best describe was attention. Both Jamie and I did it too I suppose, Jamie more than I, but my dad and Uncle Dean? They looked like recruits in a war movie.

Gramps glared at them both.

"What a fine example of brotherhood and decorum you two make for your boys."

Uncle Dean muttered low then, but I heard him and I'm sure Gramps did too, "Decorum? Gimme a break. We're Winchesters."

Gramps got up in his face. "That's right and we behave like Winchesters and that doesn't mean beating our family up."

It crossed my mind that now would probably not be a good time to mention my red ass. But that would've been a low blow, really. 'Cause my ass beating wasn't quite the same as the fisticuffs that were just recently averted in our living room.

"Dad, I…" Uncle Dean started. Gramps held up his hand and Uncle Dean's mouth shut with an audible click.

"Did you or did you not show River how to steam open an envelope."

I've got to hand it to Uncle Dean again, tough as nails that guy. He didn't bat an eye, "Yes, sir. I did."

I would have sworn that my dad started to smile but Gramps turned on him so fast it may have been my imagination.

"Not a word, Sam."

"Yes, sir."

Gramps took a breath. "There will not be one more attempt at retaliation for anything that has occurred in the past week. Are we clear on this?"

Tandem voices, "Yes, sir."

"You." Gramps pointed at my dad, "You go talk to your son in his room and you," he pointed at my uncle, "on my six."

"Yes, sir."

Uncle Dean briskly followed Gramps into the kitchen. I heard the back door slam but that was it. Then Dad was grabbing me roughly by the collar and half dragging half pulling me up the steps to my bedroom.

Jamie wisely stayed in the living room. I even heard the TV start back up again.

I have to say that Dad might have gone a little easier on me than he could have, but I'm not so sure. It was hard to tell, considering one swat in and my burning ass was re-ignited to a forest fire.

Dad didn't lecture or talk just started spanking the hell out of me. I didn't expect anything less.

I, of course, made a blubbering idiot of myself, but that was expected too.

Dad gave me a hug afterward, just like Gramps had except I didn't want to leave Dad at all. My father was the biggest man I knew. Bigger than Gramps and Uncle Dean. It was easy to fall into his arms and cry like a little kid. Dad didn't seem to care, he just held me and shhshed me and honestly, I think I may have fallen asleep there. But maybe not. I don't know. But it felt good to be held and comforted especially after the barn, the fight between my dad and uncle and my final what for. Finally though, he left me in my room, told me to try and get some rest and honestly, I did. I crawled into bed and fell asleep.

I was worn out. Physically and mentally.

I woke to the throbbing of my butt and Jamie sitting on his bed reading.

"You okay?" he asked.

"No, would you be?"

"Probably not," he agreed.

"How are things downstairs?"

"Fine. All is quiet on the western front."

"Good to know."

"So what happened?"

"I dunno, and I'm not gonna ask."

"Really, you aren't curious?"

"Nope…there are some things a kid just doesn't want to think on. Dad maybe getting his ass beat by Gramps? Well, a part of me is rejoicing but really? No one wants to think of their father getting it by _their_ father. It's creepy."

I supposed he was right. Like Vegas I suppose, what happened in that barn stayed in that barn and there was no one but the swallows to remember it. That and the people involved.

"Does your dad look okay?"

"Yup, just fine. Riv, let's forget it."

Then he seemed to reconsider. Maybe it was the concerned look on my face or the fact that it was all my fault. Maybe he just felt he needed to fill me in. "Look, I peeked out the kitchen window after a while and they were both just standing there watching the horses. Dad was nodding and Gramps was talking. I dunno, they could have been discussing what happened or football games. Really, I don't know. Let's just leave it okay?"

I didn't want to push Jamie, not after the day I'd had so I did just that. I figured two ass kickings and one brotherly fight in the household were enough for one day. I hadn't decided what to classify whatever happened to Uncle Dean but I suppose if I took that into consideration, we really didn't need any more drama.

It appeared that Winchesters were an entire Hollywood production.

End.


End file.
